


Torn Between

by SazzyAuzzy



Category: Pride and Prejudice (2005), Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: F/M, Family, Friendship, Original Characters - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:27:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22754746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SazzyAuzzy/pseuds/SazzyAuzzy
Summary: Elizabeth Gardiner is a young woman who is at the point in her life where everything can change, a visit to the countryside introduces her to a handsome Mr Darcy who challenges and excites her. However, her parents have a strong desire for her to marry Mr Wickham. All Elizabeth wants is to find love and be happy, can she do that?
Relationships: Elizabeth Bennet/Fitzwilliam Darcy
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> This is a rewrite and a new life given to a fanfiction I was writing a long time ago under a different username. If you have seen the update from the original story, welcome, I hope you enjoy. If this is your first time seeing this, welcome as well. I am excited to write this and the overwhelming reviews from the original asking me to write it spurred me on and here we are chapter one.
> 
> Now a few things have changed from the original, but they are for the better.
> 
> And I would also like to point out that I'm not a regency expert. I will make mistakes with dialogue, terminology, and how life was lived back then. If those type of mistakes annoy you then I would suggest not to read this. As it is a fanfiction I believe that it doesn't need to be perfect, this is supposed to be a bit of fun and enjoyment for those of us who love the original and enjoy seeing what people can do with talented writer's characters.
> 
> Anyway, of my rambles.
> 
> ENJOY!

_Elizabeth’s Point of View_

Spring was nearing its end, the last few sprinkles of blooming flowers and crisp mornings that would still nip at your nose were making way for the warm evening walks and cravings of a cold iced tea. With the new season about to arrive, London would once again fill with tourists, businessmen and families as the warmest season would overtake the ever-growing city and bring about new life and opportunities for all.

It was the same every year, families would flock to the busy streets of London town to shop and explore the wonders that were hidden between its tall houses and cobbled streets. Night or day, it would not matter, the city would lively and thriving with endless wonders to be found.

Many stayed to enjoy such excitement, but I was one of the few who took the chance to look for a greener pasture. And not the metaphoric kind. I craved to be able to spend my hot summer afternoons in the shade of a large tree beside a lake or a pond, or maybe even surrounded by horses while enjoying my lastest read. The city of London did not cater to that desire, and no matter how wonderful it was to meet new people and discover all sorts of foods and hear of the adventures people had taken, the thriving countryside was busy calling out to me.

I had been fortunate enough to be blessed with a family that provided opportunities to experience both the wonders of London and the serenity of the countryside.

My father had not been born into wealth but had managed to make himself so. He had worked hard through his youth to further his education by working tirelessly, and once he had succeeded and become a lawyer, he continued his striving for success and a comfortable life. He had been lucky enough to meet my mother, fall in love and marry; which was rare, and so it made it that much more of a fairy tale. The life he was able to provide for my mother and I meant that I was granted many opportunities that most daughters, whose father was not born with a title or land, were able to get. I had the best education, was proficient in music as well as drawing, and been able to enjoy many of my hearts desires.

The home my father had purchased, not long after I was born, was a beautiful townhome in the centre of London. It was a short ride to my father’s practice, and we were also surrounded by my father’s clients and friends. It was a privileged life and one I was glad to have been given.

But no matter how much I loved London and the people who lived there, I missed exploring. I missed the overgrown paths, towering trees, and moss-covered rocks. The adventure of it all had once upon time remained inside the books I had read but after a few visits to Hertfordshire, visiting my father sister and her family, I had discovered that my dreams of green fields and blue than blue skies was not just on paper. I found myself returning to Hertfordshire almost every year since my thirteenth birthday. My mother would accompany up until I turned sixteen, and from then on would I would make the journey myself.

My relationship with my cousins was a close one and I had grown extremely fond of the eldest of my cousins, Jane. She was the kindest girl I had ever met and had always encouraged me. I also had an incredible connection with Mary, she was the second eldest and very talented with the piano. We had bonded over music over the years, and even though she was shy and reserved, once she warmed up, she was a delight. My other two cousins, Catherine and Lydia, were instead a handful. Loud and obnoxious, the two had a rather nasty habit of embarrassing themselves in front of friends and strangers alike. My poor uncle, who was a kind but reserved man, spent most of his time apologising and hiding in his study. My aunt was definitely a unique woman. She was my father’s sister, but the two were nothing alike. My mother had told me growing up that my father had practically begged my uncle to marry her. He feared for what lay ahead for my aunt if no one would take her. I had always wanted to ask my uncle if he regretted his decision in marrying her. My aunt was exceedingly blunt, and that is the politest way to put it. She was often put off by others success and wealth; in her eyes, the only thing that mattered was marrying her four daughters off to men of high stations so that they could enjoy the life she was deprived of. Her words, not mine.

I did pity Jane, Mary and my uncle for having to live with such people, but they were family and no matter how hard they pushed me, I would always try and be supportive anyway I could.

It was one of the reasons, besides getting to enjoy some fresh air, that I returned to the Longbourne estate ever summer. I would spend time with my cousins and encourage them, try to show them some direction and maybe even instil some propriety. Every year I had hoped for the best, even if the outcome was slim.

The year of my twentieth birthday was no exception. My travel plans had been arranged, my bags packed and a letter sent off to Jane to inform her I would be seeing her in a few days. My father had organised a carriage, and my mother had double checked everything to make sure I was prepared.

It was the day before I left and I found myself sitting in my room on the window seat with my legs comfortably tucked underneath me. A book was in my hand, and my nose was buried so far into the pages that I had not heard the knock on the door or it open. It was only my mother pulling the book from my grasp that alerted her to my presence.

I had jumped, not expecting my book to be pulled away. “Mother!” I cried. “You startled me.”

My mother smiled and placed her hand across her mouth, trying to conceal the humour that flooded her cheeks. “I apologise my dear.” She handed me back my book and sat down on the seat beside me. “Frightening you was never my intention.”

I pursed my lips and said, “I am not so sure.”

My mother just smiled and placed her hand on my knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Was there something you need?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said. “Mr Wickham had invited us all over for dinner tonight. It is late notice, but he wishes to celebrate his new employment.” The grin on my mother’s face said it all.

Mr Wickham was a young man whom I had been well acquainted with for the past six years. My father had met him at a point in Mr Wickham’s life when he had lost everything and was about to become homeless. My father, believing that Mr Wickham had great potential, took him under his wing. He employed Mr Wickham to work at his practice, cleaning and running errands for him. And while he worked, Mr Wickham returned to his studies, something he had previously lost sight of. Mr Wickham had spent these last six years studying to become a lawyer, and worked his way up through my father’s practice and was now working alongside my father rather than under him.

Mr Wickham, just like my father had stated, was intelligent and quick-witted. He was fast on his feet and a quick thinker and in my father’s eyes, the best option for my future husband. After Mr Wickham’s success, it was not long until my mother agreed with my father’s opinion of the matter.

I had nothing personally against Mr Wickham, I enjoyed his company and thought that he was a rather agreeable man. But there were many things I wanted that I was uncertain if he could give me. The idea of falling in love, just like my parents had, and just like many characters did in books, had me dreaming about what possibilities I had of it happening to me. I knew it would make my parents incredibly happy, but there was no need to worry too much about it until, or even if, Mr Wickham ever proposed.

“I already told you that I am having dinner with Melinda and her family. It has been planned for the last two weeks.” I pulled my legs from beneath me and stood to return the book in my hand to the shelf.

“Melinda will understand. You girls see once another almost daily,” said my mother.

I frowned. “Mother, please. I know how fond you and father are of Mr Wickham, but if anyone else invited us to dinner at such late notice, you would be cursing them until we arrived on their doorstep.”

My mother stood and pouted. “I would never.”

I could not help my giggle at her response. “Tell Mr Wickham that I am grateful for the invitation, but I am otherwise engaged.”

My mother conceded and nodded her head. “Very well, however, when you return from Longbourn I expect that you will make more of an effort to be better acquainted with Mr Wickham.”

My frown returned. “Mother,” I moaned. I had the temptation to stamp my foot like a child but did not. “I have made it clear that while Mr Wickham is an agreeable man, I will not be forced into any sort of forced arrangement.”

“I am not saying you must marry him, Elizabeth, but how do you even know if he is unsuitable unless you spend time with him,” my mother argued.

I returned to my seat at the window and sighed. “I never said I did not wish to know Mr Wickham. But you trying to force us together is as bad as forcing me to marry him.”

My mother reached out and took my hand. “I do not mean to upset you, Lizzy.”

I smiled at the affection nickname.

“I only want you to be safe and well cared for.”

I squeezed my mother’s hand. “I know.”

It was a common conversation that my mother and I repeated regularly. Her concerns over my future, my desires to make my own choices. It was unusual, many parents would pick a husband and send their daughter on their merry way. It was a blessing that my parents had decided I was wise enough to make my own choices.

“Madeleine, Elizabeth, Mr Wickham is expecting us at five o’clock.” My father’s voice echoed up the stairs.

My mother squeezed my hand. “I will let your father know that you will not be attending with us.”

“Thank you,” I said.

I had never fully taken the time to consider how I truly felt about Mr Wickham. There had never been a moment that had caught me by surprise or a stir in my stomach that would keep me up at night. He was a well mannered kind man who had done so much to improve his circumstances over the past six years. He would certainly not be the first choice for most fathers, but I felt that he would be able to make at least one woman very happy. I had no clue if that woman would be me or not.

***

The next morning, I was dressed, well-fed, and ready to head off on my journey. I had enjoyed a wonderful evening with Melinda and her family, we had played a few card games and sung a few songs. It had been a welcomed distraction from my mother and father’s obsession with Mr Wickham.

I had returned home no later than ten and after a brief conversation with my parents, and their comments on how sad Mr Wickham was that I had not been in attendance, I went to bed with a small amount of annoyance. It was gone by morning, knowing that my parents wished nothing but the best for me, and I was ready for my journey.

“Is this the last bag, Miss Gardiner?” asked Mrs Burch.

I smiled and nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Mrs Burch was our housekeeper. She was a widowed woman in her early fifties we a nack of snapping orders and getting things done exactly how my parents desired. She had been a constant companion throughout my childhood and had blessed me with many books that had filled my dreams with adventure.

“Would you like a cup of tea before you set off?” Mrs Burch gestured towards the kitchen.

I shook my head. “I’m still full from your wonderful breakfast, so no thank you.”

Mrs Burch nodded but seemed unsatisfied.

“I will only be gone for two months, Mrs Burch. You will not even miss me.” I took two steps towards her and reached out for her hands.

Mrs Burch took my grasp and squeezed them. “You are right of course.” She smiled but a tear escaped her eye. “I can enjoy some peace and quiet.”

I chuckled. “That you can.”

“Elizabeth, my dear. Your father is late.” My mother stepped into the sitting room while fanning herself.

“I can wait a few more minutes,” I said. My father had run down to his office to hand off a few critical documents that could no wait. He had planned to make it back to big me farewell but more than likely he had been stuck there by another urgent matter.

“No, my dear. I would like for you to reach your stop before the sun sets.” My mother placed her hand on my lower back and turned me towards the door. “Your father would insist that you leave.” She was right, of course.

Outside, I hugged my mother and Mrs Burch before climbing into the carriage. I smiled at them and waved. The carriage had just started to move when I heard my father yell out. “Elizabeth!” The carriage stopped and my father’s head appeared at the door.

I smiled. “You are late,” I said.

My father nodded. “Yes, again.”

I giggled and reached out to take his hand.

“You travel safe, and write to us as soon as you arrive at Longbourn.”

I smiled and nodded. It was the same speech every year, and my mother had already given it to me twice before I had made it out of my bed that morning. “I promise.”

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too, Father.”

He stepped back and allowed the carriage to move. I stuck my hand out the window and waved. I was excited to see my cousins but I would miss my parents.

As we neared the end of my street, I noticed Mr Wickham standing on the corner looking directly at me. He offered a gentle smile and a wave, the latter of which I returned. He disappeared from view and I could not help but think about my parent's wishes. I was curious if Mr Wickham wished to marry me; there had never been any intention made or any gestures, but that may just mean he was polite.

Regardless of what was happening at home, the next two months would be spent in the countryside with my cousins, and I would welcome the distraction of their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

_Mr Darcy’s Point of View_

Netherfield Park was quiet. The morning sun was shining through the large window of the office that my dear friend, Charles Bingley, had allowed me to use to finish off some business correspondence. It had turned out to be the best place to hide from Caroline Bingley, Charles’ youngest sister; the young woman seemed to hold a strong belief that I enjoyed her constant company, finding a place where I could be undisturbed was an excellent thing.

I had been a Netherfield Park with Charles and his sister for a little more than a month. Charles had arrived at my home with a smile on his face, waving documents around, declaring he had found the perfect place to call home. He had requested that I travel with him and after spending some time at the property, help him decide if his intuition was correct.

The invitation had been flattering, and at first, I had believed that my responsibilities at Pemberly would keep me from coming with him. However, fortune was in my favour and I was able to bring my work with me. The only thing I had been concerned about was my younger sister, Georgiana. Before I had left with Charles, she had been recovering from a bout of sickness. Leaving her while she was still recovering filled me with guilt, but a rather firm push or two from Georgiana assured me that she was fine; her constant letters also kept me from worrying.

The time spent at Netherfield had been somewhat unpleasant, for me. Charles had managed to make many acquaintances with families already situated in Hertfordshire, but I found myself disagreeing with his assessment of many of them. Then again, my social skills had never been my best attribute; even as a child I had been shy, my father had believed it would be something I would grow out of, and my mother had tried to encourage me. Unfortunately, my awkward social graces meant my ability to come across as friendly upon first meeting was little to none. It didn’t affect the running of Pemberley as I was confident about all areas regarding it, but causal social interactions were troublesome.

I signed the end of my last correspondence for the day and placed down my quill as a gently knock cut through my peace and quiet. “Enter,” I said.

The door opened and in stepped Charles. “My apologies if I am interrupting.”

I offered him a smile. “Charles, you are never interrupting.”

“I am glad,” he said.

“What can I do for you?” I asked. I stood from my chair and collected my letters.

Charles closed the door and stepped further into the room; the look on his face filled me with concern. He furrowed brow only appeared when the information or request he would share with me was something he knew I would be uncomfortable with. “I wanted to tell you that I have sent out an invitation to invites the Bennet family to dine with us at the end of the week.”

Dread filled my stomach. The Bennet family was the one family I had wished Charles had never met. They were beyond ridiculous, and the idea that Charles wanted to associate with them brought me considerable concern on what their actions would do to his reputation.

“Now, I know that your last meeting with them did not go as smoothly as it could have, but I am hoping that this dinner will help improve relations.” Charles clapped his hands together and smiled at me. The smile didn’t reach his eyes and I could see the nerves bubbling inside him.

The first meeting with the Bennet’s certainly was an interesting one. Two weeks after they had arrived at Netherfield Park, Charles had received an invitation to a town ball that would be happening that night. It was last minute, but Charles had insisted that we all go and meet everyone. Charles had tried to assure both myself and his sister that it would be an enjoyable evening. It was anything but.

The ball was held in the town hall that was small and crowded; there was very little room to move without knocking into another guest. I had felt awkward and uncomfortable the second we arrived. Charles had been introduced to the Bennet’s shortly after we arrived. Mrs Bennet was loud and upfront, she was not shy about flaunting her four daughters before Charles and I. Mr Bennet was a quiet man who besides a firm nod after being introduced, returning to standing against a wall drinking. I had felt sorry for the poor man, he was no doubt hiding from his wife. The four Bennet daughters were all remarkably different. The eldest and most agreeable of them all was Jane Bennet. A blonde beauty who caught Charles’ eye the minute they had entered the hall. Charles had spent the remainder of the night inquiring about her and dancing with her. Jane had three younger sisters, but their names I did not remember. They had all been different in personality, two were quite loud while the other was reserved like her father.

This dinner was all about Jane. Charles had made his intentions clear after arriving home that evening, and this was Charles’ first step in wooing Miss Bennet. I had no issue with him chasing the young woman, my concerns were towards her unusual family. However, my fears were not as important as my friend's heart. So rather than throw my dislike for the Bennet’s at his feet, I conceded and bowed my head.

“I know how anxious you are to become better acquainted with Miss Bennet and as your friend, while I do not find her family agreeable, who am I to stand in your way,” I said.

Charles beamed and moved across the room to me. His hands grasped my shoulders, and he said, “Thank you, my friend. Now if only you could convince my sister to think in the same manner.”

I sighed and said, “I’m afraid your sister is a lost cause. She is, without a doubt, never going to approve.”

Charles clenched his jaw and nodded. “That is what I am afraid of. But nonetheless, thank you.” Charles left the office, and I smiled at the noticeable skip in his step. I had never seen him so excited about the prospect of meeting a young woman again, maybe he had truly experienced love at first sight.

***

Having completed my work for the day, I decided to enjoy the sunshine and warm weather that the first few days of summer had supplied. I dressed in my most comfortable riding slacks and tacked one of the few horses that Charles had stabled. The horse Charles had allowed me to use was called Captain, he was jet black, incredibly friendly, and an obsession with apples.

I mounted Captain, and we headed out to a small lake that I had discovered sat on the edge of the property. The lake lay in the middle of a large open field and one side was covered by a large willow tree that’s leaves had stretched out over the water. Plenty of wildflowers and ferns had sprouted up and surrounded the pool of water, and the natural generation of this piece of land made for a beautiful setting. I had considered recommending the spot to Charles if he ever wished to take Miss Bennet somewhere romantic.

It took no more than ten minutes to reach the spot. I allowed Captain to graze in the tall grass and sat among the roots of the willow tree. I pulled out a book by my favourite poet William Blake. The most recent collection of his poems had been bound together and given to me by my sister for my last birthday; it had been a welcome surprise.

One poem that kept me rather glued to the collection was a poem called ‘A Poison Tree’. The poem itself talked about dealing with an overwhelming sense of anger that if the speaker was with a friend, then they would be able to work through it, however, if that anger is directed towards an enemy the outcome would not be so pleasant.

At the time my sister had gifted me the book, I had found myself relating to the poem and finding that to read it allowed me to clearly navigate through a rather stressful time.

Sitting beneath the tree, I opened to ‘A Poison Tree’ and let the poem’s words sink in.

_I was angry with my friend;_

_I told my wrath, my wrath did end._

_I was angry with my foe;_

_I told it not, my wrath did grow._

_And I water’d it in fears,_

_Night & morning with my tears;_

_And I sunned it with smiles,_

_And with soft deceitful wiles._

_And it grew both day and night._

_Till it bore an apple bright._

_And my foe behild it shine,_

_And he knew that it was mine._

_And into my garden stole,_

_When the night had veild the pole;_

_In the morning glad I see;_

_My doe outstretched beneath the tree._

There had been a few moments in my life that I could say that I had allowed my anger to overwhelm everything else. The death of my mother and my father had both hurt deeply, both of them dying well before their time and leaving me to care for my much younger sister had been terrifying for me. Having one particular person who I had called brother betray me at the same time had only made it worse. To honour my parents, I had managed to keep myself together. But no one was perfect and my anger had gotten the best of me on occasion.

A drop of water landing on my cheek alerted me to the grey clouds that had floated in and covered the sky. It did not take long before the grey clouds turned dark, blocking the sun from the sky, and turning the glimmering field into a muddy nightmare as rain poured down.

As quickly as I could, I mounted Captain and turned him towards the house but found the heavy downpour challenging to see through. I decided that finding shelter would be a better option than to push through the sudden summer storm.

I found a bridge not too far from the lake that was covered but a wooden roof. While water still seemed to leak through the hastily built covering, it provided enough shelter to keep Captain and me from getting wetter any further; not that my clothes could absorb any more water if they tried.

I tied Captain’s reins to the side railing of the bridge, so that if he spooked he would not run, and gently stroked his neck. The rain didn’t seem to be letting up, but I couldn’t help but smile at the first of what would be many summer storms. As a child, summer storms had been a favourite past time. Running around on the neatly trimmed lawns of Pemberley, his mother chasing after him with her beaming smile and his father scolding them from the porch before giving in and joining them in the downpour. The small and joyous event frequently led to a cold that would keep me in bed for a few days following the said storm, but it had always been worth it.

A twinkling laugh caught my attention from the other side of the bridge. I turned away from Captain to see a young woman, thoroughly soaked, pulling a hat from her head and allowing her long brown hair to fall out of its bun. She laughed as she dropped the hat to the ground and began to ring the water from her hair.

The woman appeared to be oblivious to my presence, and I spent a moment observing her as she seemed to have enjoyed running through the rain. Her eyes were gleaming with joy, and her musical laugh echoed around me.

I forced myself to stop staring at her and decided to introduce myself. I cleared my throat and clasped my hands together behind my back.

The woman gasped and spun around. Her eyes full, still filled with humour but now also surprise. “Oh, hello.” A giggle slipped from her mouth. “I did not see you.”

Her laughter was magic; I could not hold back the smile it forced upon my face. “My apologise, Miss. I did not mean to startle you.”

She smiled and said, “People say that often. I must be completely self-absorbed as so many people seem to startle me with their presence.”

Her admission was interesting. While I believed that every woman had some sort of level of self-obsession, the women I knew would never admit it out loud. “Or maybe their presence is simply not important enough for you to waste your precious time on them.” My reply came off more snobbish than I had intended.

The young woman, however, giggled again and said, “I do not believe myself more important than any other person. Everyone is worth my time.” She bent down to pick up her discarded hat and walked closer to me. “Were you caught in the storm?” she asked.

I nodded. “Indeed. I was enjoy the pleasant sunshine and was completely encaptured in my book when this storm surprised me. Rather than battle against the unkind rain, I decided that shelter would be the best course of action.”

“I had every intention to walk back home, sun or rain, however, I did not realise how far from home I had walked.” The young woman looked down at her dress and sighed. “My aunt shall not be pleased about the layer of mud I have accumulated on my dress. Oh well, just another reason to avoid returning any sooner.”

The young woman intrigued me. Her joyful manner, brilliant laugh and smile, and her enjoyment of the rain appealed to me more than any other woman had. Glancing at the two inches of mud that had coated the bottom of her dress, I thought about how normally such an appearance would usually show lack of decorum and propriety, but seeing how unperturbed she was felt refreshing.

“Do you find yourself caught in the rain often, sir?” she asked me.

I smiled and considered sharing my childhood fondness for the downpour of rain. I nodded my head. “Not as often as I did as a child. On many occasions, I would enjoy summer storms, just like this one, and play on the lawns surrounding my home much to my father’s dismay and the colds that I would develop afterwards.”

Her smile brightened and she bit down on her lip. The action sent a shiver through my body, and I cleared my throat and shook my head to not allow myself to get distracted. The young woman was a stunning young woman, rivalling many of the young ladies I had been acquainted with over the years. Her bright eyes and pink cheeks were a pleasant sight to behold.

“Sir, if you intend to stare at me in such a manner, I believe that it would be more appropriate to introduce yourself,” she said.

The embarrassment of being caught staring at her in such a way sent off a fuzzy feeling in my stomach and my face flushed. A reaction a woman had never caused before, it was unnerving. “I apologise, again, Miss. My name is Fitzwilliam Darcy.” I bowed.

She returned the bow with a quick curtsey and said, “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Darcy. My name is Elizabeth Gardiner.”

The name sounded familiar but I was unsure where from. I had not met Gardiner’s at the town ball since our arrival in Hertfordshire; it made me curious as to where she was staying and if I would be seeing her again.

“Have you recently moved to Hertfordshire, Mr Darcy?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, I am visiting with a close friend of mine. He has moved into Netherfield Park and invited me to stay with him for a few months. We have only been here a little over a month.”

“Would your friend be Mr Bingley?” she questioned.

I nodded. “Yes, are you both acquainted?”

“No,” she said. “I have not had the pleasure. My cousins, however, do speak fondly of him.”

“Your cousins? Are you visiting them here?” If she was a visitor, that would explain why he had never seen her. Then again, he had not made an effort to get to know many of the locals after the ball.

Miss Gardiner nodded. “Yes. I live in London with my parents. Every summer I make the trip down to spend a few months with my cousins before returning home. I arrived only yesterday.”

“London is quite different from Hertfordshire, is it not?” London was a place I enjoyed visiting, both for pleasure and business, but green fields and sitting beneath the larges trees at Pemberley was no something that could be enjoyed on the cobblestone paths that lined London’s streets.

“That it is.” Miss Gardiner stepped up to the barrier of the bridge and looked out at the rain. The downpour had slowed and had become a drizzle now. “However, London does not possess the beauty of the countryside after a rainstorm.”

The sun peaked through the grey clouds and reflected off the few drops falling. The beams of light shimmered across the green pastures and turned the surrounding landscapes into a fantastical realm. It was indeed a sight to behold, almost as much as Miss Gardiner herself. “I could not agree more,” I said.

Miss Gardiner smiled. “I think this pause in the rain is my cue to continue home. It was a pleasure, once again, to meet you Mr Darcy.”

I returned her smile. “The pleasure was mine, Miss Gardiner. I do hope our next meeting is not so unusual.”

Miss Gardiner’s eye twinkled and she said, “The unusual occurrences make it more interesting. Good day, Mr Darcy.”

I watched Miss Gardiner as she placed her hat back on her head and walk away. She seemed to almost skip along the path and it made the happiness bubble in my chest as she stopped a few meters up the road, turned around and smiled at me. Meeting her was a completely unexpected yet welcome surprise and I found myself excited to see her again.


	3. Chapter 3

_Elizabeth’s Point of View_

The past two days at Longbourn had been peaceful and a pleasant change to the usual fast past of my daily life. I had arrived at Longbourn as the midday meal was about to be served. It had been a welcome surprise to see Jane and Mary both waving enthusiastically as my carriage came down their drive. My uncle stood behind them, and even he had a fond smile on his face. I hugged both Jane and Mary enthusiastically and was then led directly to the dining room. I greeted my other cousins politely, and before I could even say hello to my aunt, she criticised me for arriving during their meal. The temptation to roll my eyes at the woman was great, but I bit my tongue, offered her a warm smile and apologised. I liked to think my father would be proud of my handling of his sister’s poor attitude.

The midday meal was full of stories, laughter and a very enthusiastic Lydia informing me on all of the newly married couples, the best suitors available, and when the next social events were to be held. All things that were of a great deal of importance to her as well as my aunt but were very low on my list of concerns. Still, I had kept an excited grim upon my face and asked the correct questions to entertain Lydia and Catherine.

After our meal, Jane and Mary escorted me up to Jane’s room and together unpacked my things. When my mother had accompanied me on our visits to Longbourn, Jane’s room would always be offered to my mother and me to share. Jane would share with Mary. When the visitations changed to just me, I insisted that I was perfectly happy to share with Jane for my stay. It had only improved the friendship Jane and I shared, the older we grew, the more I considered her a sister more than a friend or a cousin.

When the following morning had blessed one of the first days of summer with warmth and a brilliant blue sky, I had been unable to stop myself grabbing one of the many books I had brought with me and headed out to find a green pasture to lay down in and enjoy the fresh air. I had walked until I found myself sitting atop a green hill that overlooked a vast field that was full of horses that grazed on the fresh grass. I admired the horses for some time, enjoyed a few chapters of my book, and laid back on the lush lawn and soaked in the warmth. It was only when a few drops of water had fallen on my face, startled me from my sleep, had I realised that the warm sun had sent me into a slight daze. Since closing my eyes, the weather had taken a turn, and dark grey clouds had rolled in, and the rain was beginning to fall.

The sudden arrival of the rain told me that it was time to return home, but as I started the walk back to Longbourn, it was only then that I had realised how far I had actually walked. The rain turned into a torrential downpour, soaking through my thin coat and dress. I managed to find a bridge that was covered by a poorly built wooden roof, but it gave me enough shelter to wait out the rain. The idea of waiting for the rain to stop had sounded dull, and the temptation to simply continue on my way and enjoy the rain was halted by the meeting of the handsome Mr Darcy. His dark hair and warm brown eyes had stared directly at me without shame. It had been startling to discover him taking cover from the same storm, but while he was not shy with his questions, he had not come across as judgemental or rude. In fact, he seemed quite charming. We had separated as the rain calm down to a slow drizzle, and my remaining walk home was consumed of thoughts of the handsome man and when we would meet again.

I arrived back at Longbourn less than an hour later, and the rain was beginning to pick up momentum. I made a quick dash to the side door and smiled as Jane greeted me at the door. In her hands was a towel. Taking it from her, I used it to pat down my face and neck. “Thank you, dear cousin.”

Jane smiled and asked, “Out enjoying the rain?”

I nodded. “Very much so. However, it was not my initial intention.”

“Let us hope not. I would change before Mama discovers you in such a state.”

I sighed and continued to dry my hair with the towel. “Your Mama does not need to discover me in such a state to criticise me. She does that well enough without reason.”

Jane cringed. “That she does. But you know Mama, she is high strung and—”

“And jealous,” I said, finishing her sentence.

Jane pursed her lips. I could see her agreement to my comment in her eyes but we both knew she would never verbalise that confirmation. Instead, Jane did what she did best and changed the topic. “Besides the rain, how was your walk?” Jane linked her arm with mine, and we headed for the stairs. Upstairs I would dry myself off entirely and change into a clean dress.

“It was beautiful. Every time I come back to Hertfordshire I remember why I suffer through your mother and sisters comments. I got to watch horses playing in the fields, and I even had a small dose in the sun.” Just thinking about that green hill made me want the sun to return so that I could run back outside.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. Mama did want me to point out to you though that you need to let at least one of us know which direction you head.” Jane squeezed my arm. “If you were to wander too far, what would happen?”

I shrugged. “Perhaps, I would meet a handsome stranger.” I thought back to Mr Darcy. He seemed the type to save a woman in distress. I played with the idea of feigning distress if I ever met him again to see how he would react.

“Even a handsome stranger could be unsafe. Many types of people travel through Hertfordshire,” Jane scolded me.

I smirked. “Well, it was a good thing that Mr Darcy did not take advantage of poor innocent me then.” I pushed the door open to Jane’s room and walked over to the cupboard that was storing my clothes.

“Mr Darcy?” asked Jane.

“The handsome stranger who kept me company. I accidentally made his acquaintances as we both found shelter on a bridge during the storm.” I smiled, thinking about the way he had stared at me, imagining the things he felt about me. I found myself hoping that he thought well of me. Grabbing a pure white gown that was decorated in small blue flowers, I turned back to Jane. Her face held a strong look of confusion and concern. “Jane, what is the matter?”

“If you are speaking of the same Mr Darcy that I have become acquainted with recently than I am surprised by how fondly you refer to him,” she said.

The smile slid from my face. “What do you mean?”

“Mr Bingley, the—”

“The man who is hopelessly in love with you,” I teased.

She frowned by a small bubble of embarrassment, flushed her cheeks. “Mr Bingley arrived in Hertfordshire with his youngest sister and his friend, Mr Darcy. We were introduced to Mr Darcy at the town ball, and he was very unpleasant.”

The idea of Mr Darcy being an unpleasant man seemed difficult to grasp. The man I had conversed with had been a gentleman, kind and had a rather pleasing smile. Mr Darcy had confirmed that his friend was Mr Bingley which meant he was the same, Mr Darcy. Was it possible that their first meeting had simply been a misunderstanding?

“The Mr Darcy whom I met today was no unpleasant in the slightest,” I said. “In fact, he was a gentleman. Is it possible your first meeting was fuelled by a misunderstanding?”

Jane sighed. “I am unsure. While he was fine enough when he spoke with me, he did say very little and seemed repulsed by mama and the other townsfolks.”

It was strange, indeed. “I would understand his repulsion towards your mother, anyone would.”

Jane rolled her eyes at me.

I giggled. “I love it when your attitude slips out.”

Jane blushed and stood. “Stop it.”

“Very well, I was only teasing. Regarding Mr Darcy, I am going to give him a chance to explain. Next time we meet, which I hope shall be soon, I will interrogate him regarding his strange behaviour at the ball and discover the real Mr Darcy so that we can all be in agreement of the type of man that he is.” I stepped behind the screen and removed my dirty dress, I slipped into my fresh one and moved to sit down at the vanity.

Jane stepped behind me and grabbed the brush. “I hope that he is indeed the gentleman you claim him to be. I could not imagine Mr Bingley being friendly with a man whom everyone believes to be horrid.” Jane let out a sigh and started to detangle my damp hair.

***

The next meeting with Mr Darcy happened sooner than I had expected. Later the same day after our first meeting, Jane and I were sat in the front sitting room with Mary. Mary sat at the piano and was playing through a song that she had put together herself. It was a somewhat soothing piece that she had insisted was still not complete, but it was calming to the ear. Jane and I were also playing a game of chess.

Chess was a game that my father and I had always played for most of my life. In the beginning, it was a few minutes every other day that allowed us to spend some time together, even if it was brief. Those few minutes turned into a love for the game and a challenge for us both. By my sixteenth birthday, my father no longer allowed me to win as I more often than not could hold my own. After my passion for the game grew, I brought a small set with him to Longbourn and I had taught both Jane and Mary to play. I had even challenged my uncle to a game or two. Jane tried her hardest but was unable to think more than a step ahead. I occasionally let her win; otherwise, she refused to play.

I moved one of my pawns and smiled as Mary finished playing her song. “It is beautiful, Mary.”

Mary turned around and nudged her glass up her nose. “Thank you, but I believe it requires a few more adjustments.”

Jane shook her head and moved her knight. “Nonsense, it is perfect.”

“Yes, well, no pianist is ever truly satisfied,” said Mary.

“Which pianist said that?” I asked.

Mary smirked. “I did.” She closed her music book and stood.

I laughed. “I will be sure to quote that when you become famous.”

Mary blushed and sat down beside me on the floor. “If only.”

The door to the sitting-room opened, and my uncle stepped in with a frown on his face, his glasses in one hand and a letter in the other. He sighed and walked across the room to sit in the chair across from us.

“I hope the letter holds good news?” I said.

My uncle raised his eyebrows but didn’t answer me. He looked at the chessboard. “Jane, you need to protect your king.”

I frowned. “Excuse me, no cheating.”

Jane giggled and shifted her pawn to block my knight from taking her king. “Cheating is the only way I ever win.”

I shook my head but could not hold back my smile.

Our peaceful moment was interrupted by a loud squeal followed by trampling feet. Catherine and Lydia burst into the living room and dropped onto the other loveseat; their faces were flushed, and their eyes bursting with excitement.

“You will not believe what happened in town today,” said Lydia.

I have no doubt that I would no never guess or care, but before I could be the polite woman, my mother raised me to be, my aunt burst through the door. “The nerve of some women.”

Jane being the ever caring daughter, asked, “Are you alright, Mama?”

“Jane dear, Mrs Hamilton was boasting in town how Mr Bingley has been smothering her daughter with his attentions.” My aunt stomped her foot.

The flash of hurt in Jane's eyes annoyed me.

“I have no doubt that Mrs Hamilton is merely spreading lies to make herself feel better. Everyone in town knows how fond Mr Bingley is of you, Jane dear. He would be a fool to believe any woman would be better suited to him.”

I wanted to yell at my aunt to be quiet. The house had been peaceful all afternoon as my aunt, Catherin and Lydia had all gone into town. They were not supposed to return until this evening, but apparently, their plans had changed. I leaned across the chessboard and grasped Jane’s hand, I gave it a gentle squeeze and offered her a small smile.

“It was almost like Mrs Hamilton has chosen to forget that Mr Bingley danced with Jane at the last town ball more often than any other young lady there.” My aunt scoffed. “The nerve of some people.”

“Perhaps my news will lift your mood, Mrs Bennet.” My uncle stood from his chair and lifted the letter he had been carrying.

“There is very little that could improve my mood right now, Mr Bennet.” My aunt pulled out a chair at the table and sat down.

“What is your news, papa?” asked Jane.

“Mr Bingley has requested our presence for an evening meal at his house in three days.” My uncle wrapped his arms behind his back and strolled out of the room. He had plenty of practice delivering such news to my aunt, and the squeal that flew from her mouth was plenty of reason to run away from her as quickly as possible. “Mr Bennet, you fantastic man. I hope you have responded that we shall be attending.”

“Yes, my dear. I informed Mr Bingley we all shall be there, including Lizzy.” My uncle’s voice floated back through the door.

My aunt’s smile faltered for a moment. I could see the concern, and I knew her exact thought. If I were to attend the dinner, I would distract Mr Bingley from Jane. The woman was predictable.

“I cannot wait to meet him,” I said, mainly to Jane. “I can spend the evening gushing about how wonderful you are, cousin.”

Jane flushed. “Oh, please do not.”

I smiled. “You shall not be able to stop me. If Mr Bingley does not lovely you completely already, he will once I am done with him.” And while I spent my time making sure that Mr Bingley was focused on Jane, I would be able to deduct just what kind of man Mr Darcy was.


	4. Chapter 4

_Mr Darcy’s Point of View_

The mirror in front of me allowed me to once more check that my evening costume was perfect. While the dinner was not a formal affair like I was used to—Charles had insisted it was supposed to be a gathering for friends—I found it necessary to dress my best, even if I found the nights guest unseemingly. I straightened my tie once again before looking down to make sure my sleeves were also neat.

A quick knock at the door brought my attention away from my appearance, I glanced at the open doorway and saw Charles standing there were a strange expression. “Charles, are you nervous about your guests?” I asked. If it were I inviting a family like the Bennet’s into Pemberley, I would be unsettled, to say the least.

“Not about my guest,” said Charles.

I frowned. “Has something happened?”

He shook his head. “No, just family being family, I suppose.”

I sighed. While Charles was a kind and a gentleman, he had adopted many of his mother’s traits, his two sisters had inherited their father’s traits of not knowing when to hold their tongue. Both women were opinionated, and often I made myself uncomfortable in their presence. They had never embarrassed their family at any point, but in the comforts of their own home, surrounded by their family, the two ladies would often criticize all whom they had laid eyes upon. Caroline Bingley liked to insult other women who, I do not doubt, she perceives as competition, and Lousia Hurst nee Bingley enjoyed lording her birth rank above anyone she could. If it was possible, I tried to avoid finding myself in a conversation with either of them or god forbid, both.

Avoiding them was a rather difficult challenge, especially with Miss Bingley as she was residing at Netherfield alongside me. Unlike Miss Bingley, I could hold my tongue.

“Charles, I have told you once, and I shall tell you again, ship your sister off to stay with your other sister for a few months. It will give you a reprieve.” It was a common suggestion I made, one Charles seemed to consider but never act upon.

“That suggestion would not help with regards to this evening. Caroline has made it very clear that she does not wish for any sort of relationship to be shared between Miss Bennet and me or her family.” Charles crossed his arms over his chest and lifted one hand to his mouth.

“While Miss Bingley may be your sister, she has no control over who you wish to entertain yourself with Charles.” I stepped towards him and placed my hand on his shoulder to give him an encouraging squeeze. “While I have a few reservations of my own, regarding the Bennet’s, Miss Bennet is by far the most agreeable woman I have met since we arrived him.” Now that did not include Miss Gardiner, whom I had not mentioned to Charles when I had returned to Netherfield the other day, she was an extremely stunning woman who I had not been able to get out of my head. However, this was about Charles and not me.

Charles smiled and dropped his arms. “Thank you, Darcy.” He clapped his hand on my shoulder. “What would I do without you?”

I shrugged. “Possibly be driven insane by your sisters.”

Charles let out a gentle chuckle. “That may still happen, now they should be arriving soon. Are you ready?”

I gave myself once last glance in the mirror and nodded. “Yes, I think I am.”

We waited no longer than fifteen minutes in the front sitting room for the Bennet’s to arrive. I had made myself comfortable standing by the window, watching as the evening sun was slipping behind the horizon. Miss Bingley had made idle, and rather dull, chatter with Charles from her spot on the lounge and in the fifteen minutes we waited, three times did she try and pull a compliment out of me. She asked me regarding my opinion on her new dress, I found it to be rather unnecessarily bright and patterned; she wanted a comment on the style of her hair, her bright orange hair was twisted up into a rather large looking mound that could be familiar to a beehive and was not to my taste; she somehow found the opportunity to request my opinion on how accomplished she was, there were very few that came to mind for me. As I was raised a gentleman and my mother would roll in her grave if I was anything but polite, I offered short but straightforward responses. All which seemed to please her, or if they did not, she kept her smile tight to not allow me to see otherwise.

When the butler, Mr Johnston, stepped into the sitting room and announced the Bennet’s arrival, I was surprised by my excitement that I would no longer be forced to converse with only Miss Bingley.

“Mr Bennet, Mrs Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Miss Mary Bennet, Miss Catherine Bennet, Miss Lydia Bennet and Miss Elizabeth Gardiner,” said Mr Johnston.

Charles’ face seemed to light up, and he greeted the whole family with a smile. The words that came out of his mouth were lost to me as my eyes found the bright brown eyes of Miss Gardiner. The stunning woman whom I had by chance met in an unusual circumstance had been my great distraction these past few days, and I had not expected out next meeting to be here. I remember her mentioning that she was visiting her cousins but to imagine that Miss Gardiner, who held all the graces of someone raised in a very high-class family, would be related to the Bennet’s. It was a little perplexing to comprehend.

I took a moment to admire her, and she was just as breathtaking dressed in a blue gown with her brown hair tied up neatly in a bun as she did soaking wet from the rain. It was difficult to keep the surprise from my face, and when I noticed her pleasing smile directed at me, I could not help but return my own.

Charles pulled me from my focus on Miss Gardiner when he addressed her directly. “Miss Gardiner, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Her eyes left mine, her bright smile stayed in place, and she curtsied to Charles. “And to you as well, Mr Bingley. It was very kind of you to extend your invitation to include me as well.”

Charles nodded. “Of course, when Mr Bennet mentioned that you were their guest, I could not leave you at their home alone when your sole purpose is to be with your family. And besides, there is plenty of room.”

Miss Gardiner bowed her head. “Again, thank you. And it is indeed a pleasant surprise to meet you again, Mr Darcy.”

I bowed politely at her and said, “A wonderful surprise indeed. I did not realise that the cousins you spoke of were the Bennet’s.”

She nodded. “Indeed, the similarities are missing. My mother’s looks were passed on to me much more than my fathers.”

“Not just your looks,” interjected Miss Bingley. “I am Caroline Bingley, Charles’ sister.”

“Pleasure, Miss Bingley. Jane has told me all about you.” Miss Gardiner was polite in her greeting, but I noticed how the happiness in her eyes faded and was replaced by suttle displeasure towards Miss Bingley. I had no doubt that she understood Miss Bingley’s comment regarding appearances for what it really was.

“Mr Bingley, dinner is prepared.” Mr Johnston’s announcement broke the silent that had fallen upon the room and had everyone step into the dining room.

I tried to keep the excitement from overwhelming me as I noticed that Mrs Gardiner was placed directly beside me. At the head of the table sat Charles, on his right was Caroline—no doubt so he could keep her in check, not that it did much. Next was Miss Lydia Bennet than Miss Catherine Bennet and Mrs Bennet. Mr Bennet sat at the opposite end of the table, I sat on his right, then it was Miss Gardiner, then Miss Mary Bennet and ended with Miss Jane Bennet. It also didn’t get past my notice that Charles had Miss Jane Bennet beside him and Mrs Bennet as far away as possible, I doubted it would stop her from trying to flaunt Jane for him just as she had done during their first meeting. This time, however, I could occupy myself with Miss Gardiner.

Our entrée was served, and immediately Mrs Bennet’s eyes narrowed in on Miss Gardiner. She asked, “When did you meet Mr Darcy, Elizabeth?” His disapproval was evident, but so was Miss Gardiner’s annoyance as her Aunt’s attitude.

“The other day. We both found ourselves caught in the middle of a storm and took shelter on a bridge. It was purely coincidental.” Miss Gardiner offered me a warm smile.

“It was certainly an unusual introduction,” I said.

Miss Gardiner nodded. “Not an unwelcomed one.”

I was pleased. Our first meeting had been somewhat unusual, and I had thought for a moment that my shock at her sudden appearance and my bold stare may have frightened her off. Instead, she seemed somewhat open to me, and the warmth in her smile and eyes only made me want to spend as much time with her as I could.

“Do you often find yourself caught in the rain, Miss Gardiner?” asked Miss Bingley from the other end. Her eyes were focused on her food.

Miss Gardiner turned to look at her and nodded. “Not as often as I like.”

The comment made Miss Bingley lookup. Her displeasure of the response evident on her face. “I would never dare be caught in such a state, one's appearance when meeting anyone—even those who may not be of the same station—is how they are viewed from henceforth.”

Charles frowned at his sister, and I could see him open his mouth to defend Miss Gardiner, but she beat him to it. “Only those who have nothing else to offer are so concerned with others opinions on their appearances.”

The insult was no doubt a slap in the face for Miss Bingley and her face turned red, from either embarrassment or anger, I was unsure, but I cleared my throat to keep the laugh that had tried to bubble its way out in.

“Mr Bingley, have I said how wonderful your home is? Simply amazing.” Mrs Bennet spoke up and changed the conversation to something lighter. It was one of the only times I found myself being thankful for her presence.

Throughout the entrée and the main meal, Mrs Bennet kept up control of the conversation. She would often turn everything towards Miss Jane Bennet. The poor young woman had a constant blush upon her cheeks, and it was clear that Miss Gardiner was doing everything she could to help her cousin, but Mrs Bennet seemed relentless.

I found a few opportunities to speak with Miss Gardiner, and I found myself amused by her wit and fond of how kind she was to everyone. Even after boldly standing up to Miss Bingley and making it clear that she was no afraid to bite back, she involved Miss Bingley in the conversation. The answers Miss Gardiner received were short, but not blatant insults found their way out. I even ended up speaking with Mr Bennet, it seemed that while the man was reserved once Miss Gardiner managed to get him to open up, he was a rather agreeable man. He enjoyed shooting but wasn’t very good at it due to his eyesight getting worse. I managed to also find common ground with him regarding reading material.

By the time our meal was finished, and we moved to the largest sitting room, which housed the piano as well as a lit fireplace, I found myself finding that not all of the Bennet’s were as disagreeable as Mrs Bennet. Mr Bennet had agreed to go shooting the following week with Charles and me, and I found myself standing at the piano talking to Miss Mary Bennet about her gift with the keys.

“You are very talented,” I said.

Miss Bennet smiled and blushed. “Thank you, Mr Darcy. That is kind of you to say.”

I nodded. “I believe that you would enjoy my sister's company, she too is very gifted on the piano. In fact, I find it difficult to get her to do anything else.” I smiled, thinking about the amusing arguments I had shared with Georgiana, trying to get her to focus on her lessons rather than her music was a constant struggle.

“The same can be said for Mary.” Miss Gardiner stepped up beside me and smiled at her cousin. “I believe I see you at the piano every day when I awake and every night before I retire.”

“Not much else I am very good at, where else would I be?” said Miss Bennet.

Miss Gardiner brow clenched ever so slightly. “That is a bunch of poppycock, and you know it.”

Miss Bennet smiled.

“We both know the reason you play so much is to drown our your mother’s awful nagging.” Miss Gardiner giggled, and Miss Bennet joined her.

I found myself unable to contain a chuckle. It was true that Mrs Bennet knew how to talk, only thinking about her voice screeching through the house around me made me cringe.

“Now I may not have first-hand experience with your aunt,” I said, “I find myself imagining something very unpleasant.”

Miss Gardiner nodded. “My aunt is certainly a difficult woman to deal with; however, I have years of practice.” She stepped around me and away from the piano and nodded her head to direct me to follow.

We stepped a few paces away, and she said, “I have a question for you.”

I smiled, intrigued. “Ask away.”

“Jane was telling me about the first introduction that you have with my cousins.”

I cringed. The meeting had not been my smoothest, but my unnaturally awkward social graces had been in overdrive.

“When she described you to me, I found myself unable to believe that we were speaking of the same man. So when I was informed that we would arrive here tonight and we would meet once more, I was determined to work out which personality was your true one,” she said.

I nodded. “And your conclusion?”

She smiled. “That you are the gentleman I thought and that something caused you to act out of character upon your first meeting with them.”

I was relieved. My feelings toward Miss Gardiner were stronger than I had ever felt for another, she astonished me and filled my thoughts, and the idea that I may have ruined any chance of becoming better acquainted due to a bad first impression was concerning. But her conclusion had been exact. “You are very well adept at reading a situation,” I said.

She smirked. “If you met my father, you would understand why. He has a gift for reading people and has made sure to pass it down to me.”

“What does your father do?” I asked.

“He is a lawyer. Self-made, built his own business from scratch.” The pride on her face was heartwarming.

“He sounds like a good man.”

Miss Gardiner nodded. “The very best. Now, back to my original statement. Your reaction towards my family during the ball, I am curious as to your indifference?”

I couldn’t help but look down at my feet. My awkward social graces were a sore spot for me, they were something I tried to work on as often as I could and when I found myself in similar places as I was currently in I trick myself into believing I have worked it all out. Until the next time where I’m in an uncomfortable situation and my graces vanish from existence.

“If you do not wish to tell me that is okay. I am sorry if I was intrusive.” Miss Gardiner smile softened, and there was true concern in her eyes.

“Not at all, Miss Gardiner. In truth, it is more embarrassing than anything else.” I sighed. “Even after all of my education and being raised by two people who could charm a whole room, just like Charles can, I find myself unable to comprehend the art of conversation when I am in a room full of people I do not know,” I smirked and laughed at myself. “I know it is rather pitiful.”

Miss Gardiner shook her head, and she placed her hand on my arm. It was a comforting gesture, and it sent tingles up my arm. “I do not find it pitiful,” she said. “It makes you human. No one is perfect, even though there are those who wish to flaunt themselves as such, we all have flaws.”

The simple statement made my whole body buzz. Miss Gardiner was genuinely astonishing, and everything inside of me was telling me to sweep her away and make her mine. There was no other proof required, I could see myself spending my life with her. Maybe even fall in love with her.


	5. Chapter 5

_Elizabeth's Point of View_

Things were different. The Bennett household was relaxed and happy. My aunt was moving around with a broad beaming smile, her excitement from the direct intentions made by Mr Bingley, giving her a moment of peace that we had all been praying would last forever. As our evening at Netherfield Park came to an end, Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy escorted us all out to the carriage so that we could return home. The evening had been delightful; I had been able to witness Mr Bingley’s distinct affections for Jane and watching her blush under the attention gave me a small boost of excitement for her. My uncle, Jane and I were saying our final goodbyes to Mr Bingley, and he requested to formally court Jane. I thank my mother for her gracious lessons in keeping my emotions in check or I may have been jumping around and squealing in delight as I heard my aunt doing so from the carriage.

With Jane officially courting Mr Bingley, my aunt had seemed to mellow. She was confident that a proposal would result at the end of the courtship and that within the next year Jane would officially be Mrs Bingley. Jane too, had shared her excitement with me once we were alone after returning home. Her cheeks were flushed, and she had cried with happiness as we laid side by side.

My only concern was for Miss Caroline Bingley. Jane had mentioned before we had left for Netherfield that night that Mr Bingley had his sister staying with him. Jane had referred to her as a polite woman who seemed accomplished. Since I knew Jane was unable to be rude about anyone, I had hoped that her statement would be correct. To my not complete surprise, Miss Bingley, while seemingly well taught in regarding how to walk and talk, had an attitude that could resemble an untamed stallion. After our initial introduction, it had not taken Miss Bingley long to try to make me feel uncomfortable. I know that I made my father proud, however, by making sure that Miss Bingley understood that she was no better than any other person. I had given myself a firm pat on the back after she kept her brusque comments to herself for the remainder of the evening.

Miss Bingley had a plan, that was easy to see. She had spent the evening trying to stay in between Mr Bingley and Jane, trying to avoid them speaking directly at all costs. She also tried to keep Mr Darcy’s attention.

I had been thrilled to speak with Mr Darcy again, our introduction formalised and witnessing as he spoke with my family displayed his real character. And the admittance of his naturally clumsy social graces only made him that more appealing. It was rather endearing to see the small flush that coated his cheeks and neck as he admitted it to me. But it also explained the first impression my family held for him; anyone uncomfortable in any situation could find it difficult to be pleasant; it just meant that Mr Darcy was human.

I found my evening occupied by him as we spoke fondly during the meal, and as we stood beside Mary, who entertained the room with the piano. Miss Bingley attempted a total for four times to pull Mr Darcy away from our conversation and into her own. She fluttered her eyelashes and flashed a smile; it was almost nauseating. But neither of her flirtatious managed to lure Mr Darcy away.

Jane had also been thrilled with the differences she experienced in Mr Darcy’s personality since their first meeting. She explained that to her, Mr Darcy appeared to be a rather pleasant man who had a charming smile. A charming smile that according to Jane, had been directed at me for the entire evening. I had been unable to hold back my flush of embarrassment as Jane teased me relentlessly about it as we tried to fall asleep.

The days that had followed the evening at Netherfield park were filled with conversation, regarding both Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy’s intentions, and also a rather lot of thinking about my feelings.

I had been enjoying my breakfast, comparing opinions on a story in the paper that covered a few changes in parliament with my Uncle, when I was handed a letter. It was from none other than Mr Wickham. The letter was not unwelcomed; the conversations I had held with the man had always been enjoyable, and I believed that our relationship could be considered a friendship. However, he was never one to write such things as a letter if it could be avoided, he had mentioned on more than one occasion that he had always preferred to speak to someone face to face so that he could gage an accurate response.

My aunt had enquired about the letter, but rather than read it in front of the family; I slipped it into my pocket to read when I had a moment of privacy.

I stepped out for a walk after breakfast had finished and walked along a small stream that ran from the side of the house up to the main road. I enjoyed the warmth of the sun as it blazed up in the blue sky and admired as it rays seemed to brighten the wildflowers that lay tangled in the long grass that grew along the bank of the water. I pulled the letter from my pocket and decided there was no point in delaying any longer.

His script was messy, and a little hard to read, and there were a few sentences crossed out. It seemed like he had made many mistakes. The letter read:

_Dear Miss Gardiner,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. I do hope that your summer holiday with your cousins is living up to your expectations as your presence is being missed here. Your parents do seem a little lost without you. I, myself, if you do forgive the boldness of my statement, miss you as well._

_I write to you today to tell you something that I have been unable to express in words. For the past six months, I have tried to find the right words but have failed. Every time that I meet your gaze and am graced with your smile, the words seem to disappear, and I cannot remember what I intended to do._

_This is not something traditional put on paper, but I feel that if you perhaps hold a positive response to the question I wish to ask, that you will help me through my failure and take the first step._

_What I wish to ask is if you feel anything towards me in a romantic capacity? My feelings for you have been a constant distraction since our first introduction, and they have only grown. I hope that my dedication to renewing myself as a new man will allow you to see past the mistake I did make and see a prosperous future that I know I will be able to provide, thanks to your father’s guidance._

_I do not expect your reply any time soon. I ask that you take the time to consider my question and your feelings before confirming your answer with me._

_Whichever conclusion you come to, I wish you a joyous holiday, and I will be eager to see you upon your return._

_With love,_

_George Wickham._

Mr Wickham’s confession was not shocking. My parents had been confident that his interests were romantic for some time, and I had come to the same conclusion myself after spending more time with him. I had certainly not expected him to admit his feelings in a letter; it was bold and would leave a lasting impression.

My feelings towards Mr Wickham were not clear to me. I had spent little time with him, only really conversing with him when my parents were around or briefly at our social gathering. I had never had the opportunity to sit down with him and genuinely get to know him.

Some people would say that was what courting was for. Spend time as a couple; let your emotions develop and then get married. I did not wish to begin a courtship with someone who I did not know or have at least a little understanding of that person.

I knew that Mr Wickham would make both of my parents happy. They already approved of him, and both had mentioned that we would make a handsome couple, my parents were anything but subtle.

However, their feelings on the situation would not push me to make a final decision. Did it provide comfort to know that they approved? Yes. But it would take me some time to decide what my heart wanted to do.

I closed the letter and slipped it back in my pocket as my name was called out. I turned around to see Mary dashing towards me. Her eyes were wide with excitement and her glasses slipping down her nose. I caught her in my arms, and she let out a soft giggle.

“What is going on?” I asked her.

She took a deep breath and said, “Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy have arrived. It seems that Mr Bingley wishes to take a walk with Jane and Papa has insisted on Jane having a chaperone.”

I smirked. “Oh?”

Mary nodded.

“How did Jane react?” I asked.

Marry mirrored my smirk. “Her face went bright red.”

I chuckled. “Poor girl. I suppose we should get back so that I can make sure that your mother does not do anything disastrous.”

Mary sighed and linked her arm with mine. “That is impossible.”

Back in the sitting room at Longbourn, Jane, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy and my uncle, were talking about hunting. The subject could not have bored Jane any more; she looked ready to fall asleep.

I stepped into the room and interrupted the conversation. A soft smile on my face, Jane looked at me with a grin of relief. “Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy,” I greeted them. “How wonderful to see you both again?”

Both gentlemen smiled and bowed. “Miss Gardiner, you as well.”

“Mary informed me that Jane required a chaperone, is that correct, Uncle?”

My uncle nodded. He cleared his throat. “Indeed. Mrs Bennet had every intention, but I knew that was a bad idea.” He chuckled.

I smiled. “Indeed. I am happy to help.”

“Shall we go and enjoyed the sunshine then?” said Mr Bingley. He turned to Jane and extended his hand out for her to take.

Jane stood, a warm glow on her cheeks. “Yes, lets.” She took his hand, and the two of them headed towards the door.

“Miss Gardiner, may I keep you company?” asked Mr Darcy.

My chest warmed as I turned my eyes onto Mr Darcy’s handsome face. The sight of him sent a warmth through my whole body, and as I placed my hand in the crook of his arm, a tingle seemed to spark in my hand. “That would be wonderful,” I said.

***

Mr Darcy and I followed Jane and Mr Bingley as they strolled through the field that sat at the back of the house. Mr Bingley held Jane’s hand in his elbow, and his eyes seemed almost never to leave Jane’s face, which was covered with a beaming smile. We followed a few paces behind to allow them some semblance of privacy as they conversed, it also allowed me to speak with Mr Darcy.

I was curious about the type of man that Mr Bingley was. While face to face, he had come across as a kind man, I wanted to know that it was his real face and not something he projected to the world. From the few hours of observation, it was clear that Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy knew one another well and that meant Mr Darcy knew the man beneath the well-tailoured exterior.

“I do believe that your train of thought must be rather serious for such a look of determination,” said Mr Darcy.

A small giggle escaped my lips as he brought me from my thoughts. “My mother tells me that it is a bad habit for a young woman to get lost so easily in her thoughts, especially when that young woman is in the company of others.”

Mr Darcy smiled. “It could be misconstrued; others may assume that such a woman held little inside her mind.”

I nodded. “That it may.”

“However,” he said, “I like to believe that a woman who thinks about other things so deeply displays a true level of knowledge.”

My stomach fluttered at his words. “What a thing to believe,” I said.

“My mother would often tell me how society expected us to behave was not always correct, and the only way to change society would be to express our opinions fearlessly.” Mr Darcy’s eyes saddened as he mentioned his mother, but the warm smile on his face showed how true he held her words.

“I would like to meet your mother; she sounds like a brilliant woman,” I said.

“She would have enjoyed your company. She often expressed her delight in meeting a young woman who spoke their opinions so bluntly.” Mr Darcy let out a sigh. “Unfortunately she and my father passed away some years ago.”

I cringed as he spoke. How could I have been so foolish not to realise? I squeezed his arm with my hand the was looped through his. “I am sorry to bring those memories up; I did not realise.”

Mr Darcy’s other hand reached over and squeezed my fingers. “It is quite alright. Those who did know both my parents tend to avoid speaking about them as they seem to think I will be offended by it. In reality, I wish others would speak about them more. My sister, Georgiana, loves to find out all she can about them.”

“Poor girl,” I said. “To lose her parents while still so young.” I glanced ahead of us to see Jane and Mr Bingley laughing. I allowed a soft smile before stopping and looking up at Mr Darcy. “We may have only just met, but I do believe that while your parents are gone, they would be proud of you.”

Mr Darcy smiled widely. “And what brings you to this conclusion?”

I said, “You have been nothing but a gentleman since we met. You are kind to others, and it was clear how much you care for your sister. The affection you hold for her is obvious is your tone. And the same goes for your friends.” I looked back towards Mr Bingley. I started to walk again. “And that brings me to my deep and internal considerations from a moment ago.”

Mr Darcy looked at me curiously. “Is that so?”

I nodded. “Yes. Now, I believe it is obvious to everyone that your friend Mr Bingley is rather taken with my cousin, Jane. And he has been nothing but polite and welcoming to the whole family, especially considering my aunt.” It took a great deal of self-control to not huff at the image of my aunt making a fool of herself. “I care a great deal about my cousin and along with that comes a rather big concern for her heart. Jane is not naive to heartbreak, but she does have trouble expressing her true feelings. My goal is to simply make sure that no misunderstandings occur and that both Jane and Mr Bingley are happy.”

“I feel as if you are trying to ask me a question but have yet to form it?” Mr Darcy asked.

I nodded again. “That I am.”

“I am in complete agreement; I do wish for both your cousin and my friend to be happy. Has Mr Bingley given the impression that he feels different in any way?” he asked.

I shook my head. “No. My concern is that the face that we have all met is not his true one.”

Mr Darcy nodded his head in understanding. “So you question his friend to find out if Mr Bingley is indeed as kind as he appears to be? Do you fear that he is much like his sister?”

I frowned. “Yes.”

Mr Darcy smirked. “I can say with great confidence that Mr Bingley is the shy and clumsy man that you see. He has a large amount of charm but struggles to speak ill of anyone. It is one of his greatest assets but also results in him allowing Miss Bingley to get away with acting as she does.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “That is good to know.”

“Does Mr Bingley have your approval?” he asked.

I smiled and nodded. “If he keeps that smile on Jane’s face, I could never have any objections.”

The couple has stopped under a tree and we sitting on a large root that was protruding from the ground. Mr Bingley had leant down and picked a small yellow wildflower that had been growing among the grass and handed it to Jane. Her cheeks flushed as she took it and thanked him.

“It may be their first date, but I do believe that these two will be married by the end of the year,” said Mr Darcy.

I chuckled and nodded. “Perhaps even the end of the summer.”


End file.
